


The Foundation

by bauble



Series: The Foundation [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 00:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11070651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bauble/pseuds/bauble
Summary: Sequel to "I can help you change your life"This story (along with the rest of my work) is a choose not to warn space.





	The Foundation

"No one else," Eames says, not quite comprehending what Arthur's asking him to do. "You're the only one—"

"My shy little virgin." Arthur's mouth crooks up in amusement as he traces the line of Eames' jaw. "That's what you were before you met me, wasn't it?"

"Not shy," Eames protests. "Not a virgin, either, except—"

"Except when it comes to men." Arthur tips Eames' head to one side, studying his exposed throat. "I'm the only one that's been inside you, aren't I?"

"Yes," Eames says, a thread of arousal awakening at the words, even as his brain scrabbles to hold on to what he'd been protesting.

"And you love it, don't you? You thought you wouldn't," Arthur's voice, slow and deep, resonates like a bell. "You enjoyed it when Robert sucked you."

"Yes, but that's—that's different." Eames closes his eyes, words slurring in his mouth. Robert's not the one he wants. Arthur is.

"I know," Arthur says, infinitely patient as Eames leans into him. "You'll look lovely split open on somebody else's cock. You'll take it so well. And what if I fed you my cock at the same time, hm? Would that help?"

Eames buries his face in the join of Arthur's neck and shoulder, inhales deeply enough to feel dizzy. "Yes."

Arthur allows Eames to lick his collarbone, to undo the top three buttons of his shirt. "What was that?"

Eames rubs his cheek down Arthur's abdomen, against his groin. "Yes, please."

"That's enough." Arthur pulls away and Eames whimpers. "Robert's coming over tonight and I want you to save your enthusiasm." Arthur stands, re-buttoning his shirt.

"But—" Eames starts after Arthur. "But I—"

"Enough, Eames," Arthur says, humor vanishing. "Tonight, you'll play with Robert nicely. Understood?"

Eames sits back to glare. "Understood."

* * * * *

Arthur returns to the estate late that evening, in high spirits. Robert trails him like a lost, horny puppy, and Eames can't help but snort with derision. Arthur expects that pathetic creature to fuck him?

Still, Eames is waiting for them in nothing but semi-translucent linen trousers by the Jacuzzi, champagne in glasses. Robert's eyes widen in predictable recognition, lust, and surprise.

"Arthur," he says, hesitating. "I thought that was a one time—"

"Oh, but you left such an impression on Eames," Arthur says, guiding Robert forward was a hand on the small of his back. "Didn't he?"

"He did," Eames says, pushing his own trousers down to puddle on the ground. He's not hard yet, but it's only a matter of time now that Arthur's here. "Care for another taste?"

Robert sinks to his knees and licks the head of Eames' cock rapturously. Meanwhile, Arthur strips, sinking into the hot tub with a satisfied smile. Eames runs his fingers through Robert's expensive haircut and begins to harden under Arthur's gaze.

"Face-fuck him," Arthur says, and Eames complies. Robert chokes and tears up, one hand scrabbling with the tent in his own trousers. Robert's wet mouth and clenching throat feel heavenly, but it's Arthur's attention that Eames basks in. "Robert, I want you to swallow all of Eames' come. If you do, I'll let you eat that beautiful ass out."

Eames thrusts hard and comes, though a part of him feels uneasy. Robert eating him out isn't what Arthur had asked for, earlier. Eames agreed to be fucked, not—

"I could watch you come all day," Arthur says, and Eames' doubts are swept away in the current of Arthur's approval. "So gorgeous for me. Like watching my own live porn."

Eames releases his grip on Robert's hair, tingling with oversensitivity. Robert falls to the ground, sputtering, gasping for breath. He looks up at Arthur with adoring, watery eyes. "I swallowed it all."

Arthur favors Robert with a pleased smile that sends up a flare of jealousy in Eames' chest. "You did. Now Eames will give you your reward. On the ground."

Eames lays face-down on the tile floor and submits to Robert touching his back, his legs, his arse. Eames has no reason to be envious; he's using Robert as a human sex toy. Eames is the one Arthur's watching.

It's not exactly comfortable with an unfamiliar presence between his legs. Eames' cheeks are parted and he tenses, unnerved by the swipe of something damp against his hole. Arthur loves it when Eames eats him out, but no one's ever done this to Eames—no woman, not Arthur—and it feels alien. Like an unwelcome stranger.

It's clear Robert is getting off on it, though, the slick sound of him working his own cock loud in the otherwise quiet room. Or maybe he simply gets off on doing whatever Arthur tells him, the sad bugger.

"Eames," Arthur murmurs, and that alone is enough to send sweat prickling across Eames' skin. "Doesn't Robert feel good inside you?"

Eames hears a moan escape his own lips as he watches Arthur through half-lidded eyes. All thoughts recede from his mind and his world focuses down to how Robert's tracing the rim of his hole, a thousand tiny nerve endings lighting up. It's a struggle not to push back into it. Not to beg Robert to open him up and push further in.

"You may come again, Eames," Arthur says, smiling indulgently. "Robert loves making you come, doesn't he?"

Robert moans in assent and that's enough to tip Eames into another climax, one that feels softer and less urgent than the first. Ejaculate spreads over the tile, and Eames hopes some streaks across his abdomen the way Arthur likes.

"Come here," Arthur says, and Eames nearly trips in hurrying over before Robert does. "Do you remember the first time you made me come, Eames? It was right here in this tub, wasn't it?"

Eames slides in beside Arthur, winces at the hot water enveloping his oversensitive cock. "Yes."

Arthur thumbs Eames' mouth, which automatically opens and begins to suck. "You tried to fight me. Robert's never had that problem, has he?"

"No, never." Robert splashes into the tub, too, and Eames frowns, tries to take Arthur's thumb in further.

Arthur withdraws his hand completely and Eames flinches; surely, Arthur can't be rejecting him in favor of this mewling—

"Eames has learned better, hasn't he?" Arthur leans back and stretches, a clear invitation. Eames dives forward to suckle at his nipples, grateful for Arthur's generosity. "He's been trained to ride me properly."

Eames needs no further encouragement to straddle Arthur's lap and slide down on his cock. It's thick and hard and huge, makes Eames feel so bloody good he can hardly bear it. He rolls his hips fast and rough, watching Arthur's lips part, his head tip back. Eames also manages to ignore the irritating way Robert tries to intrude, sucking at Arthur's fingers and mumbling, "God he's gorgeous, both of you are, the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Eames focuses on making Arthur orgasm, on making him forget Robert's very presence. Arthur groans, and Eames purrs with contentment at the hot spill inside. If Eames hadn't come twice already, he'd be on edge himself.

"My perfect pet." Arthur rubs his free hand over Eames' pectorals, plucks at the nipples while Eames arches his back and preens. "Now Robert."

Eames glances at Robert, then back at Arthur. He can't mean—

"Well?" Arthur gestures at Robert's lap. "Robert's been more than patient and you're not being a very welcoming host."

"I wasn't aware hosting duties included this sort of entertainment," Eames says. "He can fuck me, but I'm certainly not about to—"

Arthur sighs and covers Eames' mouth with his palm. "We had a deal."

When Arthur lifts his hand, Eames says, "We didn't agree to Robert blowing me and licking my arse."

Arthur raises an amused eyebrow. "Are you complaining about the two orgasms he gave you versus the one you owe him?"

"I'm saying that this isn't what we originally agreed to," Eames says, mulishly.

Arthur is quiet as he studies Eames' face. After a long moment, he chuckles. "Alright. A new proposal: how would you like to fuck Robert?"

Eames glances at Robert, who blinks back at him hopefully. Eames recoils. "I do believe my cock is finished for the evening."

"Then you ride him. The poor thing is aching to come." Arthur strokes Robert's cheek, and Eames rolls his eyes. "Aren't you?"

"I can wait," Robert says solemnly. "As long as you want."

"I'll finger fuck you if you'll stay quiet," Eames says, nauseous at the prospect of listening to Robert simper any longer. "Face away from me."

Eames slides behind Robert in the water and gingerly presses a finger forward. He expects resistance, as it usually takes women (and Arthur) a few minutes to warm up to a foreign object up the bum. But Robert's body seems to have no objections whatsoever, welcoming Eames' first digit, then second, easily.

A brush of Robert's prostate has him coming, making more noise than is really necessary. Eames watches sullenly as Arthur heaps praise on Robert—entirely unwarranted, in Eames' opinion, since Robert did little more than present his arse.

"And you," Arthur says, turning his attention back to Eames. "You continue to surprise me. I've never had such a disobedient pet."

Eames climbs back into Arthur's lap, leans in for brazen kisses. "I obey. Mostly."

Arthur kisses back, sharp and stinging. "Mostly."

* * * * *

Arthur brings Robert round to the estate more and more often. He doesn't demand that Eames participate directly anymore; instead, he commands Eames stay silent and observe. Eames is forced to watch Arthur fuck Robert's arse until he's clawing at the sheets. Eames is then forbidden from touching himself or anyone else after. It's torturous, being left achingly hard by each session, being denied access to Arthur's body even when Robert's not there.

"Please," Eames whispers one day, after Robert's come while sucking Arthur's cock. That gorgeous cock Eames hasn't been allowed access to in weeks. "Please, Arthur, allow me to finish you."

Arthur strokes his still-erect dick consideringly. "What if I want Robert to swallow my come?"

"He won't suck you like I can." Eames crawls on his hands and knees to sit between Arthur's legs, ready to debase himself if it'll lead to his mouth on Arthur. "I need it."

Arthur presses his cock against Eames' cheek. "What will you do for it?"

"Anything." Eames licks at the precome leaking down his jaw, cherishes the familiar taste. "Anything you ask."

"I'd like you to fuck me," Robert whispers in Eames' ear, arms sliding around Eames' waist from behind. "Properly, this time."

Eames is too preoccupied by Arthur's tantalizing closeness to be bothered by Robert's presumptuousness. All that matters is Arthur.

"Robert's going to sit on your cock while I feed you mine." Arthur rubs his cockhead all over Eames' chin, his forehead, his nose—forcing Eames to be still, be patient. "No more protests from now on."

Eames lays down on the bed, head dangling off while Arthur works his big cock down Eames' throat. Eames is in such a state of bliss that he hardly notices Robert settling on his hips. It feels nice to have that clench around his dick, Eames supposes, the way any tight arse or pussy might feel. So what if it belongs to a man that isn't Arthur?

Eames shivers with pleasure as Robert begins to move, sliding up and down Eames' cock like a well-practiced professional; Arthur has been putting him to work quite frequently in the past month. Arthur cups Eames' jaw and says, "Isn't it easier when you stop fighting me? When you accept that I know what's best?"

Eames moans around Arthur's dick, nearly delirious with gratitude. Eames missed this keenly, ached for Arthur's taste and smell. It's a reassuring familiarity as Robert bounces on Eames' lap. Eames doesn't want Robert, but Arthur wants Eames to feel good, Arthur wants Robert to make Eames feel good—

"Robert's going to make you come," Arthur says, tenderly. "Today, tomorrow, and in the future, including when I'm not here to watch."

Eames wants to protest. He wants to, but his throat is beautifully full, his bollocks are tightening, and he wants to orgasm desperately, no matter who it's into.

"You're both mine," Arthur says as Eames finally shakes apart in orgasm. "I expect both my pets to be well cared-for."

Eames swallows Arthur's come and hums in sated agreement.

* * * * *

Robert's visits to the estate grow longer. He stays evenings, mornings, weekends--and dismisses all Eames' pointed comments about returning to his job. It turns out Robert is a billionaire, inherited from a recently deceased father, though some of his wealth is currently locked up in trusts or various international corporations.

Robert doesn't seem especially interested in any of that, however, preferring to cling to Arthur like some grief-stricken limpet. Arthur integrates Robert into their sex life, ignoring Eames' attempts to get him alone. 

It's not entirely horrid, Eames has to admit. Robert is eager to please and amenable to spreading his legs whenever commanded. The first time Arthur walks in on Robert sucking Eames off while he's watching the telly, Arthur nods in approval. He makes his approval further known that night by fucking Eames until he nearly blacks out.

Eames beckons Robert over for blowjobs much more frequently after that.

The first time Arthur has to leave for a weeklong business trip and suggests leaving Robert behind as company, Eames and Arthur fight. Robert is in no way an effective substitute, Eames argues. 

"I know," Arthur says, later, when he's easing inside Eames' spread arse. "But he'll keep my perfect pet company, won't he?"

Eames can't prevent Arthur from going, he knows that by now, though it doesn't stop Robert from following Arthur all the way to his car. Arthur sends him back to the house with a smack on the bottom, and Eames spends the rest of the week waking up to Robert's warm mouth on his cock.

* * * * *

Eames learns to tolerate Robert's presence, which is made easier by the general size of the estate. Aside from sleeping in the same bed, they don't technically have to see each other during the day if they don't want to. Eames isn't sure what Robert fills his waking hours with. Eames doesn't much care until it begins to negatively impact his own life.

As Robert stays longer and longer, people begin calling with some frequency. Eames catches snatches of conversation in which Robert's friends, family, and handlers (lawyers, bankers, and the like) ask about Robert's absences at work, his growing attachment to Arthur. Phrases like, 'scamming you' and 'bloodsucker' and 'dangerous influence' are bandied about. Inquiries about Robert's health, his fragile emotional state, his abandonment of therapy are made. 

Great concern is expressed over recent changes in his spending habits, about several wire transfers of money.

One day, there's a woman in the driveway. She stares at the estate for a few minutes before pulling out her phone and driving away. The next day, there are several men in the driveway, casing the place. The third day, Arthur returns home to the woman and one of the men waiting for him.

Eames can't get close enough to hear the entire conversation without being seen, but he does overhear the words, "kidnapping" and "release" and "ransom."

He watches as Robert hurries out to placate the strangers, assuring them that he's fine, he's happy, he's here of his own volition. That Arthur is his new spiritual mentor, that they're trying a new type of hypnotherapy, that there's no reason to worry.

Eames' mother and father died when he was a child. Having no siblings, they left no relatives for Eames to know, no family estate to maintain. Eames has spent most of his life a nomad, dipping in and out of locations, changing identities as cons call for it. When he moved in with Arthur and disappeared off the map, no one came looking.

Robert, though.

Arthur guides a visibly distraught Robert inside, wraps him in a hug and soothing words. The strangers have driven away and retreated temporarily, but a shark never gives up when there's blood in the water.

After his father's death, Robert's got a hell of a lot of blood for the taking.

* * * * *

"I'm glad you're back," Robert whispers as he helps Arthur undress. "I missed you like crazy."

"I know you did," Arthur replies with a soft smile. Robert ducks his head bashfully while undoing Arthur's cufflinks. Arthur aims a less soft smile at Eames, who is standing in the bedroom door. "And you?"

"I was rather enjoying having the run of the place." Eames saunters forward, savoring the way Arthur's gaze glides over the designer suit Eames acquired on Robert's dime. "I suppose now I'll have to abide by curfew and rules again."

Arthur extends one arm to pull Eames in, grabbing him by the arse firmly. "You missed me."

Eames brushes his lips over Arthur's and pulls back. "No. Robert kept me company."

"Yeah?" Arthur growls as he claims Eames' mouth again. "Show me."

Eames bends Robert over the nightstand; it's easy, now, almost natural. Robert usually comes before Eames does, but Arthur stops him.

"I want Eames to come on your cock," Arthur says to Robert, which makes Eames' stomach flip over in a way that's not entirely fear or excitement.

Being fucked in the arse by Robert is—not terrible. Robert starts off showily, jackhammering Eames like he's in a porno, concerned with all his best angles. It improves when Arthur cups Eames' jaw and says, "You like this."

"Yes." Eames exhales, and somehow the thrusts in and out grow smoother. Feel better.

"You want to come with me in your mouth and Robert up your tight, round ass," Arthur says, and Eames breathes a blissful yes.

Eames never imagined he'd orgasm like this, filled from both sides without a hand to his cock. He never thought two men could make his blood this hot, his body shake with pleasure. Robert ejaculates inside him and Eames wraps his legs round Robert's waist, welcomes it.

* * * * *

"You've bought some new toys for yourself," Arthur says while Eames plays online poker on his days-old laptop.

"Robert is very generous," Eames says, opting not to mention precisely what Robert's level of awareness is regarding several purchases billed to his credit card.

Arthur runs his fingers through Eames' hair, possessive and thoughtful. "He has the capacity to generous, doesn't he? A shame so many people seem determined to block him from exercising it."

"They don't want to lose out on their share of his father's pie," Eames says, leaning into Arthur's touch. "They're afraid you plan to take it all."

"They're afraid I'm a con artist like you." Arthur's words aren't reproachful, merely amused. 

"I would fleece him for hundreds of thousands of dollars." Eames sits back in his chair and gazes up at Arthur. "But you've a different sort of hold on him. You needn't stop in the thousands."

"Millions?" Arthur raises an eyebrow. "Billions?"

"All of it," Eames says. "His land, his companies, his trust funds—he'd pass it to you without a second thought."

Arthur hums, not sounding entirely convinced. "There are limits."

Eames stands, and in a rush of daring, threads his own fingers through Arthur's hair, musses it in a way that Arthur's expressly forbidden before. "I don't believe in limits."

There's a flare of heat in Arthur's eyes as he jerks Eames' head back and presses a line of biting kisses under his jaw. "My clever, disobedient pet."

* * * * *

Arthur sets Eames a new task: seduce Robert, and put to rest any doubts Robert's handlers have seeded in his mind. They don't trust Arthur, but Eames can vouch for Arthur's character, his pure motives. Eames can show Robert that no one loves him the way Arthur does.

It's been months (years? Time's become hazy after meeting Arthur) since Eames has taken on a new role, sank deeply into character. He relishes the opportunity, devises a multi-week campaign designed to defuse Robert's understandable suspicions and insinuate himself in Robert's confidences. 

The change is subtle, Eames gradually working his way from a man who genuinely enjoys fucking Robert's tight ass to someone who sees to Robert's pleasure during, takes care of him after. Robert particularly enjoys the mix of rough sex and coddling, bruising play to the point of tears, which Eames tenderly wipes away.

Arthur observes the transformation and makes no comment while Robert is present, only expresses his approval in private sessions that leaves Eames bowlegged and hoarse.

The first time Robert calls Eames 'Daddy' does come as something as a shock, though in retrospect, Eames supposes he shouldn't have been surprised. Thankfully, Robert's on all fours while Eames takes him from behind, and he misses Arthur's eyebrow raise.

After a slight pause, Eames grabs Robert's cock—which has gone flaccid, likely out of fear of having overstepped—and says, "That's right. This boy knows precisely who he belongs to."

Robert comes like a rocket, muttering, "Daddy, oh," as he slumps to the ground.

Arthur congratulates Eames on his success, later. He presses Eames' knees nearly to his ears and fucks him, whispering all the while, "Such a good influence," and "Doing everything I ask better than I could have imagined," and, "I'm going to love watching you suck Robert off."

Arthur makes Eames come over and over, leaves his body buzzing with electricity and exhaustion and satiation—for the moment.

* * * * *

Eames blows Robert the next day, his blue eyes wide and startled. Eames doesn't enjoy it, never wanted a man's dick inside his mouth aside from Arthur's, but he puts on a show regardless. Arthur rewards Eames by allowing him to suckle on Arthur's cock for as long as he wants, and Eames grows to associate the unpleasant taste of Robert's cock with the opportunity to chase it with Arthur's.

Robert begins buying Eames small gifts, continues the practice until Eames sits him down for grave chat about finances. Robert's been living in Arthur's home, consuming his food, not contributing to the household expenses. Nothing brings Arthur greater joy than sheltering Robert, sacrificing for his sake, but Arthur's a man of limited means and Eames has grown concerned for Arthur's future wellbeing.

Robert is horrified by this news, was utterly unaware of Arthur's precarious financial state. It is fortunate that he has Eames to inform him, to counsel him on how to rectify the situation.

"Of course Daddy's here to care for his boy," Eames murmurs while Robert flushes, finishes signing several blank checks.

When Robert presents the money to Arthur, he refuses to accept. It's only after Eames has several long conversations with Arthur in private (which Eames spends doing little talking, as Arthur keeps him busy on his knees) that Arthur finally, reluctantly, accepts Robert's financial assistance.

"Just this once," Arthur says firmly. "That's not why our good boy is here, is it, Eames?"

"This pretty thing?" Eames grabs Robert by the bollocks, squeezes hard enough to make Robert moan, his eyes rolling up in his head. "No, he's here to play with Daddy."

* * * * *

The days float by in a daze of sex and money. Robert's handlers grow increasingly concerned until he finally fires them, signs the rest of his assets over to Eames for safekeeping, eager to shed the responsibility of maintaining his business empire. That's what Daddies are for, after all.

Eames grows to enjoy his time intertwined between Robert and Arthur's naked bodies more as well. They do new things together, and sometimes Eames still needs Arthur to push him, to show him how much he enjoys doing something he never wanted to before.

Sometimes it hurts, like when Arthur was watching Eames writhe on Robert's cock and said, "Your ass was made for taking cock, wasn't it? Greedy hole probably wants more."

Eames moaned and nodded mindlessly, thrilled at the possibility of receiving Arthur's dick next. But then he felt a blunt heat pressing against his entrance, pushing in where Robert was already seated inside. "No," Eames said as Arthur held him down. "I don't want this."

"I know you don't," Arthur murmured silkily in Eames' ear. "But I do."

The pain was excruciating at first. Tears prickled at the corner of Eames' eyes as Arthur fucked him jerkily, the stretch too much to bear. Every thrust in was a burst of pain, every pull out provided next to no relief.

Beneath him, Robert whimpered, overwhelmed, "Daddy." 

"It's so fucking tight," Arthur groaned. "Never felt anything like it. You love this, don't you? Being a responsible Daddy and my perfect pet."

The pain began to recede as Eames grew more used to the fullness, pinned between two bodies. He began to enjoy it, the way he always enjoyed finding new ways to bring Arthur pleasure. Nobody else had ever done this for Arthur—only Eames.

"Yes, Arthur, yes," Eames whispered. He'd never felt like this before, stimulation on the edge of too much. "I need it, I need you to—"

"My filthy animal." Arthur grabbed Eames by the throat and kissed him. "Spoiled, housebroken pet."

Eames came so hard his vision whited out.

As with everything else, Arthur knew what Eames needed, what he wanted, before he knew it himself.

* * * * *

Eames treats himself to a new Maserati. He drives it all over town while Arthur has him fitted for a new wardrobe. Eames visits Robert's stylist for a thousand dollar haircut and the transformation is complete: Eames has become a mysterious English socialite perfectly at home in Robert's rarefied circles.

Eames is debuted as a friend slash business partner slash possible paramour at a party held by one of Robert's boarding school classmates. It causes quite a stir, seeing as Robert hasn't made a public appearance in months and rumors are circulating wildly about his association with Arthur. Eames helps allay some of the more fanciful and damaging ones.

As Arthur and Eames suspected, the party is filled with other disaffected lost souls yearning for guidance. Robert makes the introduction to Eames, who seduces them with words (and more, occasionally), before they're finally brought before Arthur.

"He changed my life," Robert always says, nearly teary with sincerity. "He can help change yours, too. You don't have to be alone."

With an encouraging nod from Eames, Robert's acquaintances step into Arthur's embrace. He holds them as they tremble, promises them peace and freedom from worldly cares, a purity of love that acknowledges them for who they are. He doesn't sleep with them all, but most. To the ones he likes best, he extends an invitation to share Eames.

Several move into the estate, then a few more, until Eames raises the idea of finding somewhere larger and more remote, less accessible to busybody family members trying to stage tiresome "interventions."

Arthur purchases an archipelago, and the entire Foundation (which is what they now refer to themselves as) relocates. The additional space allows them to house the steady stream of people ready to dispense with the trappings of their old lives and start new ones in accordance with Arthur's teachings.

Eames is kept busy managing the day-to-day administration of the compound. During the weekends, he makes a point of extending a personal welcome to any particularly interesting new recruits, especially the female ones.

No matter how many fresh, lovely faces he sees, none can satisfy him like Arthur can. Each and every evening, Eames will wait for Arthur's call, go to him if summoned. Often there will be others in the room; it matters not, Eames is happy to play with them all.

Eames' favorite nights, however, remain the ones where he can kneel at Arthur's feet for hours. Suckle on Arthur's beautiful cock while he strokes Eames' hair and says, "Look what you've built for me, my cunning creature. Look at what we've become."

No one else, Eames thinks, eyes closed in utter contentment. No one else.

fin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Inception Bingo. The prompt: anti-heroes.


End file.
